


The Road's White Picket Fence

by Lennelle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azazel's Special Children, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Jess Lives, On the Run, POV Multiple, Psychic Abilities, Sam Winchester's Visions, Season/Series 01, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 04:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8149420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lennelle/pseuds/Lennelle
Summary: When Dean had come for Sam at Stanford, he hadn't expected this.





	1. Kinda, Really Unexpected

Dad's missing. For three weeks now. Dean wouldn't be here otherwise, but he needs Sam's help. He wants Sam's help.

So Dean hightailed it to Paulo Alto, drove almost twenty hours straight just to be here, and he'd spent most of the journey imagining their reunion. He hasn't seen his baby brother in two years and he can't get the image of blinding smiles and long hugs out of his head.

But Sam's staring at him with spooked-horse wide eyes, mouth hanging open, gaze flickering back to the door behind him as he grips Dean's arm and almost tugs him back.

"Dean, what are you doing here?" he hisses. Dean figures there must be some roommate sleeping nearby but he couldn't give a crap so when he speaks he keeps his voice at a regular volume. Maybe he is trying to piss Sam off, just a little bit.

"Well, I was looking for a beer," he says. Sam's mouth tightens the way it usually does when he feels like yelling. Dean grins at him.

"Seriously, what the hell are you doing here?"

Sam's jaw is jutted in that I-want-you-to-leave sort of way, Dean can't deny that it hurts a little to see. He sighs, all that cocky humour rolling right off, and Sam drops his hand from Dean's arm.

"Okay," Dean says. "Alright. We gotta talk."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Uh, the phone?"

"If I'd called, would you have picked up?" Dean asks pointedly. The non-response from Sam says it all.

"Look, Dean," Sam finally says, voice even softer, "It's not that I don't… it's just that I've got a lot going on here and I can't – "

"Sam?"

Dean startles when a voice calls from behind the door. A _girl's_ voice. He raises his eyebrow at Sam, who he can see starting to turn red, even in the dark room.

"Jess, it's okay," he answers hurriedly, "Just wait there, I'll be right back."

Dean scowls. "You embarrassed of me or something?"

"No! No, I'm not. Dean, of course not," Sam's eyes are going between Dean and the direction that Jess' voice came from, his hand is back on Dean's arm, trying to tug him to the exit.

But the light turns on and the two of them turn back towards the bedroom door where a tall blond is standing in the doorway in an oversized sweater and pink flowery pyjama pants. Dean has to blink because the girl is seriously gorgeous, the kind of girl you would see on the front of a magazine. Her curls are tied back librarian-style and she has some god-awful knitted socks on her feet with Christmas trees on them, even though it's not yet November.

She looks a mess, but she's still way out of Sam's league.

"Well, hi there," Dean drawls, casting his glance over her again, imagining what it looks like underneath. Sam is moving towards her, arms going over her shoulders just as hers brush over her stomach.

Dean's mouth drops open.

He has no idea how he didn't notice before. The girl is practically smothered by what he thinks must be Sam's sweater, but even so the little bump protruding beneath the cotton in undeniable.

When Dean had come for Sam at Stanford, he hadn't expected this.

Jess smiles at him, a little awkwardly and waves with her free hand. "Uh, hi," she says, casting a confused glance up to Sam.

Sam seems to startle, having been nearly frozen for the entire encounter. "Right. Uh, Jess, this my brother Dean."

A smile spreads across her face and she looks at Dean like she's honestly pleased to see him. "Dean, I've heard a lot about you. I was really hoping to meet you soon but Sam's always been a bit… you know."

Dean glares at his brother. "Sam?" he prompts. Jess looks a little disheartened that Dean completely ignored her.

"Dean, I-I was going to tell you," Sam says lamely. Jess frowns.

"You didn't tell him?" she sounds displeased. Sam drops his arm from around her shoulders and stands there between them like a deer caught between a hunting rifle and a busy highway.

"I didn't," Sam admits. Speaking to both of them, he adds, "I'm sorry."

"Sam," Dean looks again to the bump beneath Jess' sweater, then back up to Sam, "You're having a baby?"

Sam ducks his head and scratches the back of his neck. Dean can see a smile. "Yeah. Due in five months."

Jess takes Sam's hand, whatever annoyance she had with him a second ago is gone. She looks over to Dean. "I'm glad you're here," she says sincerely.

Dean's stomach drops. "I wish I came here for a different reason," he says helplessly. "Sam, Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam squeezes Jess' hand, not taking his eyes of his brother. "So, he'll stumble back home sooner or later."

Dean focuses his gaze on Sam's, eyes hard. "He hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam doesn't react and at first he wonders if Sam isn't getting it, or if he simply doesn't care. But then he turns to Jess and says, "We'll be right back."

He leads Dean out of the apartment, leaving behind his puzzled girlfriend.

He fills Sam in on everything he knows; Dad went on a hunt but has been two weeks overdue, Dean was left a message with EVP on it. When he's done talking, Sam stares down at the arsenal in the trunk, thinking.

"What do you want me to do?" he finally asks.

"To come help me find him," Dean says like it's obvious.

Sam shakes his head. "I can't leave Jess."

Right. Dean had almost forgotten about that as he'd been talking to Sam.

"You can do this by yourself," Sam adds.

"I need your help," Dean repeats, harder that time.

Sam heaves a sigh and glances back up to his apartment's window, then back to Dean. "There was a reason I didn't call you," he says, almost urgently, "I wanted you to know so badly, but I couldn't get Jess, or our baby, involved in all of this. Dean, I can't go. I'm done with hunting."

Dean clenches his teeth. "You left us to go to school, but here I find out you've knocked a girl up."

Sam's face goes stony and Dean regrets what he said immediately. "That _girl_ is called Jess, she's my girlfriend, she's carrying my child, and I'm going to marry her one day. Got it?"

"Sammy, I didn't mean – "

"It's Sam," he snaps, "And, yes, you did mean it. I'm not coming. End of story."

Sam turns back towards the building with barely a glance backwards. Dean quickly shuts the trunk and hurries after him. He catches up to him at the bottom of the stairwell.

"Sammy, I really didn't mean that," he apologises, "It's just a bit of a surprise to find out you're gonna be a dad."

Sam finally stops, his face is softer when he turns to Dean. "I should have told you," he says, eyebrows pinched, "I was just so scared of getting Jess involved in all of that crap. I needed to keep her safe."

"I get it," Dean tells him, pats him on the arm. "So, uh, how did all this happen?"

"Well, when a girl and a boy _really_ like each other…"

" _Dude_ ," Dean whines.

Sam smiles. "It wasn't planned, that's for sure," he chuckles softly, "I mean, me and Jess both have college, we weren't thinking about kids. And we were being safe, you know, but that stuffs not always one hundred percent reliable and I guess – "

"One of your swimmers was an Olympic athlete?" Dean cuts across, teasing. Sam blushes.

"Dean…" he scowls, only half-heartedly. He sighs. "When Jess told me, I freaked out. Seriously, I wrote you a hundred texts but I never sent them because I kept thinking of a little boy holding a shotgun and I couldn't do it."

Dean smiles. "It's a boy?"

Sam shrugs. "We, uh, decided to wait until it was born but… I picture a boy. But I'd be happy with a girl. Totally."

Dean takes in the look on Sam's face, his little brother is happier than he's ever seen him, and he grins. "I can't believe it. My little brother's gonna have a kid… I'm gonna be an uncle!"

Sam pats his shoulder. "Yeah, uncle Dean."

"Dude, what are you gonna tell Dad?"

Sam turns sheepish. "Do you think you could maybe not mention this until, um, after the baby's born?"

"Sam," Dean growls.

"Yeah, I know I gotta tell him, it's just…" Sam sighs, "He already hates me. This is just going to piss him off."

"He doesn't hate you," Dean insists.

Sam snorts. "Right, because he was _so_ supportive of me going to college," he says sarcastically.

"He was scared for you," Dean defends, "He wanted you to be safe."

"Because hunting monsters was so safe," Sam retorts, rolling his eyes. "He was the one who told me to stay away, he kicked me out of our family just because I wanted to go to school. If he was so against that, what do you think he'll say about me and Jess?"

Dean sighs. "It's up to you to tell him. I won't say anything, I swear. I'm just saying he deserves to know that he's gonna have a grandkid. If you two had spent more time talking than you did fighting, then maybe you would know that he'd be thrilled about this."

Sam stares at him before turning to head up the stairs again, muttering, "Yeah, right."

When they get back to Sam's apartment, Jess is still up. She's sitting on the couch, the lamp on next to her as she fiddles with a quilt that's thrown over the back of the sofa. She looks up when they enter and asks, "Is your dad okay?"

Sam stutters a little, no actual words coming out, so Dean cuts across, "Honestly, we're not sure, but we're going to try to bring him back home."

Sam glares at him and says to Jess, "But, like I told Dean, I can't go."

"Are you sure?" Jess asks, frowning, "I mean, if this is serious… maybe you should call the cops?"

Dean stifles a laugh. "Believe me, Jessica, this isn't their sort of thing. This is family business."

"Oh," Jess nods, though it's clear that she isn't satisfied with the information they've given her.

"Which is why I came for Sammy," Dean adds, "He's the best man for the job."

"Dean," Sam groans. "I told you, I can't."

The two of them glare at one another, trying to say everything they can't say out loud. Meanwhile, Jess stares at them both, completely bewildered. She clears their throat to get their attention.

"I have no clue what's going on here and I'm not sure if I want to know," she says, "But Sam, it seems like your family needs you."

"But – "

"You'll make it back for your interview in Monday, right?" she cuts across him. Sam blinks.

"Interview?" Dean asks.

"Law school interview," Sam tells him, "My whole future on a plate."

Jess smiles proudly. "Baby, you're more than prepared for it, you'll be fine so long as you get back for Monday."

Dean grins at her. "See, Sammy? You've been given permission."

"I don't… I'm sorry. I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm not leaving Jess on her own."

"I can look after myself for a couple of days," Jess defends.

"Jess, you're four months pregnant!"

Jess blinks and looks down at her belly. "Holy shit! I didn't realise!" She sends Sam a coy smile and Dean bursts out laughing.

"Sammy, I like your girl," he says.

Sam doesn't laugh, he looks nervous. "I'm not going, alright?" he says, sounding so desperate that Dean is surprised that there wasn't a _please_ in there somewhere.

"Then I'll come with you both," Jess suggests.

Sam and Dean are both quick to say, "No!"

Jess folds her arms over her chest. "I get it; you don't want me involved in your weird family secrets. I'm just saying, Sam won't go with you without me and you need him to find your dad, so why don't I come? You can just ditch me in a motel room with change for the vending machine and cable, I'd barely notice you were gone."

Dean frowns, considering it, but Sam catches the look on his face and says, "There's no way she's coming."

" _She_ is right here, by the way," Jess points out.

Sam looks at Dean, practically begging. Dean frowns, wondering what has Sam so freaked out to the point where he would actually _plead_ with his brother. Sam is stubborn, he's never been the sort of person to beg, especially not with Dad or Dean, if he didn't want to do something then _no_ was usually simple enough. _No_ was what got between John and Sam in the first place.

"Think about it, Sammy; we look for Dad, bring Jessica along, make sure she's alright in a motel, find Dad, make it back by Monday. What do you say?"

Sam sighs, thinks long and hard, looking between Jessica and Dean, completely torn.

"Only two nights," Sam clarifies, "And… God. I can't believe I'm saying this. Fine."

Jess jumps up, smiling. "Great. I'll pack for our family road trip."

She disappears into the bedroom and Dean turns to Sam. "You sure about this?" he asks.

Sam swallows, looking a little sick. "Yeah, I'm sure," and he heads off after Jess.

Dean watches him go, wondering what frightens Sam so bad that he's willing to bring his girlfriend and their unborn baby on a hunt.


	2. Awkward Family Roadtrip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jess learns more than she'd like to know.

It's strange, not being alone on the road, driving the Impala with two passengers. Actually, there are technically three passengers if you count the kid that's growing inside of Sammy's girl. The kid that's ready to pop in about five months. Dean blows out a breath. Sammy's having a baby. No matter how many times he glances into the rear view mirror to see that bump it still hasn't quite registered with Dean.

Sam's gonna be a dad and he's still got a baby face himself. And Dean's gonna be an uncle and he really hopes he doesn't mess that kid up in any way. Dean shrugs, it's likely, given their family.

_I kept thinking of a little boy with a shotgun and I couldn't do it._

"Jeez, Sammy," Dean mutters to himself.

"What?" Jessica pipes up from behind. Dean flinches, he'd forgotten he wasn't alone for the millionth time since they left Stanford. She's stretched out across the back seat, dressed in clean sweat pants and a pink pullover that has the Stanford logo printed on the front. Her sneakers are lying in the foot well and her wool socked-feet are resting on the leather upholstery. Dean would tell her to get shoes back on and stick her feet back on the ground, but something doesn't seem right about snapping at a pregnant lady.

"Nothing…" he grumbles over his shoulder, focusing on the road again.

There's a loud crunch and Dean flicks his eyes back up to the mirror. In the back, Jessica is helping herself to a bag of mixed nuts and sliced apple. Before leaving she'd packed enough food to last them a month, Dean is sure. She tosses more nuts and seeds into her mouth absently, staring at her chipped purple nails. Dean's shoulders tense. What are those nuts made of, cement?

He glances to his right, hoping for some help from Sam but his little brother is out. Sam is slumped in the passenger seat, head lolling back, mouth hanging open. Dean would mess with him, maybe put something in his mouth… but Jess is here and Dean has a feeling she wouldn't be okay with him messing with Sammy.

"Is he asleep?" Jess asks, whispering not-so-quietly over the engine's rumble.

"Like a baby," Dean answers.

Jessica slumps back against the seat. "Finally," she sighs.

That sends Dean's spidey senses into overdrive. "Finally? What do you mean 'finally'?"

"He doesn't sleep well," Jess says, shrugging, "Nightmares, insomnia, you know."

"No. I don't know," Dean grits out, glaring at Sam's stupid sleeping face.

"I've begged him to see a doctor about it but he's the most damn stubborn person I've ever met."

Dean snorts. "I can guess where he gets that from. So, why ain't he sleeping?"

"Nightmares," Jess says, sighing sadly. "Poor guy, he wakes up almost every night drenched in sweat, panicking. He's seriously terrified but he never tells me what the dreams are about. I asked him to see a professional, I thought maybe that way it would be easier to talk about it but he kept saying no and I just had to give up on asking."

Dean glances at Sam again, frowning. "He used to get nightmares as a kid, even sleepwalked sometimes… but he grew out of that. When did you say this start?"

"Um, about six or so weeks ago. It was kind of out of the blue. I can't think of anything that might have caused it."

Dean nodded, listening, filing the information away for later. "So, Jess," he quickly changes the subject, "Where did you grow up?"

* * *

"Jessica!"

Sam screams until his throat is raw. He can't move. She's burning, she's dying. Blood drips down on him, a slash across her abdomen, their baby is gone. She stares at him, mouth wide open, eyes wet. Her fair skin sizzles away and Sam can hear her voice.

"Why, Sam?"

And another.

"You're my favourite."

Sam screams again. "Jessica! Jess! No!"

"Sam? Sam!" it's her again. He feels someone shaking his shoulder roughly and he blinks his eyes open, she's looking down at him, ducked through the open passenger side door, one hand resting on his cheek. "Baby, are you with me?"

Sam gulps and nods. "Yeah, I'm good."

Jess scowls at him. "Crying out in your sleep is not 'good'."

Sam rubs a hand across his eyes, trying to wake himself up. He glances to his left. Dean is staring at him silently, observing the whole scene, but there's something in his eyes when he looks at the two of them. It's carefully concealed but it's there. Jealousy.

As much as Sam would like to deny it, he and Jess are very much within their own bubble that Dean isn't a part of. Dean hasn't been a part of Sam's bubble in four years.

"Baby, do you want to tell me?"

Sam quickly shakes his head. He does not want to tell Jess about it. Not at all. He reaches out a hand and slides it under her sweater, feeling where the smooth skin of her belly is rounding bigger each day. He feels a soft nudge beneath his palm and lets out a deep breath, leaning further into Jessica's hold. She places a soft kiss on his forehead.

Dean clears his throat. "We're here, by the way," he says, avoiding looking at them. Sam glances up and realises that they're parked in a motel parking lot. Dean is already climbing out of the vehicle. "I'll book us in, um, two rooms? I guess you lovebirds want your privacy."

He's gone before they can say anything. Sam looks back to Jessica, she smiles.

"You're sure you're okay?" she asks, "Have you got a headache or anything? I brought the pills if you need them…"

"I'm fine, Jess," Sam promises, plastering on a grin. "Don't worry about me. Let's get the bags out the back, huh?"

* * *

She loves Sam. God, she really does. And it hurts her to see him in pain. But it also infuriates her that he won't tell her anything. He never tells her anything. Nothing. And she tries to be patient, she tries to be understanding, but there's only so far a woman can go, especially one that's as riddled with hormones as Jess is.

One more straw. She's going to snap at some point. She really doesn't want to, but she has zero control of a lot of her bodily functions these days. She'll cry at anything, don't test her. She's going to let Sam know what she's feeling because eventually she won't be able to keep it in. She watches him inspect the bedding, no doubt making sure there are no stray springs ready to stick and stab Jess to death.

She's going to give him a piece of her mind. Right now. Right this second. Right after she's peed. It comes out of nowhere most of the time and the next thing she knows she's sprinting for the toilet; she doesn't even have time to close the door.

Sam appears in the doorway in a flash. "I haven't checked in there yet!" he yelps.

Jess rolls her eyes and glances between her legs into the toilet bowl. "Nope. No gaters in there," she says, looking up with a sweet smile, "All clear."

Sam's face screws up in that adorable way of his. Kind of like a little kid that's confused and grumpy at the same time. He hunches his shoulders and disappears out of sight. Jess closes her eyes and continues with the longest pee in all of history. Seriously, she didn't drink _that_ much water.

Outside of the bathroom, she hears Sam's surprised yelp, followed by his grouchy voice, "Dean, you can't just barge in here. What was the point of two rooms if you're going to pick the lock?"

Jess' ears prick up. Pick the lock? She'd taken Dean for a bad boy from the moment she first saw him (and she's never had much interest or time for bad boys) but picking a lock seems out of a bad boy's league. Dean is creeping into weird, criminal brother territory.

She sees how much he means to Sam, and she's trying her hardest to like him, but Dean is going to have to work his way into her good books.

"Calm yourself, Sammy," Dean says in this joke British accent. She hears footsteps and Sam yell at Dean again and she's suddenly aware that she left the door wide open. And then Dean is standing in the doorway, he stares at her for a moment, clearly as embarrassed as she is.

"Get the fuck out!" Jess shrieks. Dean doesn't wait for her to tell him twice and he ducks out of sight again.

"Jeez, Sammy, you could have told me your girl was using the waterworks," she hears Dean say. She scowls and rolls her eyes, quickly finishing her business and pulling her pants back up. She washes her hands, wiping them dry on her sweater's front pocket, and steps back into the room.

"Well, that was awkward," Dean says lightly, catching her eye with a wink. She raises an unamused eyebrow and Dean, if it is even possible, seems to shy away from her.

"For some more than others," she bites out. She glances down, feeling the tension in the air, and notices that her hand is cupped over her belly. She does that a lot without noticing.

Dean clears his throat and turns to Sam. "Well, I, uh, found a lead, I guess is what we could call is. Not like I'm a professional or anything," he says, sounding like he's reading from a script for Jess' sake. She crosses her arms over her chest.

She has a feeling there's more to their father going missing than a few drinks too many. She'd thought they didn't want the police involved because they didn't want their drunkard father taken into the police station, but now she has a feeling they want the police out of it for more than just to save embarrassment.

"Right," Sam says, nodding. He turns to look at Jess, eyebrows pinched. "Will you be okay on your own for a couple of hours?"

Jess snorts. "Sam, baby, I'll manage without the embrace of your strong arms for a little while," she jokes, but Sam's mouth barely even twitched into a smile. Dean, however, just about gives himself a stitch from laughing.

"Sammy, you've got great taste," he compliments, as if Jess is a slab of the finest meat in the butchers. Jess scowls at the back of his head as he heads out the door. Sam turns around and pulls her into his arms. She's stunned for a second, the way he holds her like he needs it. These nightmares are causing some serious damage and she'll be damned if she doesn't make sure he gets better. Jess curls her arms around his back and holds tight.

"How's the embrace of my strong arms?" he asks with a lighter voice than she's heard since Dean first turned up.

Jess laughs into his shoulder. "Not bad," she replies. She lifts her head and pecks a kiss on the end of his nose, "You should go, I think Dean's getting impatient."

Over Sam's shoulder, she can see Dean staring at them from behind the wheel of that death trap he calls a car. Sam pulls away and plants a kiss on her lips.

"I'll be back soon," he promises, "And I've got my cell so you can call me whenever…"

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Go."

"Right," Sam nods. He turns to leave, then stops short and turns back, bending over and kissing her belly, "I didn't forget you either, alright?" he says. Then he jogs out the door after another peck on her cheek.

Jess watches them pull out of the parking lot. Sam is so protective of her; she wouldn't put it past him to wrap their apartment in bubble wrap. It's gotten so bad recently, he was in overdrive when she told him she was pregnant, then he started checking the locks after the nightmares started. Sam thinks she's tagging along so he can keep her safe, little does he know she's tagging along to keep him safe.

* * *

"I don't think your girlfriend likes me," Dean says.

Sam snorts. "Maybe it's because you never actually call her by her name. It's Jess, by the way."

"I do call her by her name," Dean defends, but he pauses. Maybe he's been referring to her as 'Sammy's girl' a little too much. "Right," Dean amends, "I'll stop doing that."

Sam smiles. "I'm actually glad you guys have met, seeing as you're both big parts of my life," he says.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Chick flicks, Sammy. That's rule number two."

"Like I could ever forget any of your 'rules', Dean," Sam chuckles, "And maybe you remember that I never actually listen to anything you say."

"Oh, I remember," Dean says, shuddering. "Who do you think suffered most while you went through puberty? You were like the anti-Christ."

Sam glares at him. "Because making my own decisions makes me the second coming of Satan?"

"Aw, come on, Sammy," Dean sighs, "I was just kidding. You don't have to take everything so seriously."

"Right, because no one ever takes what I say seriously."

"Except for Jessica, am I right?" Dean adds bitterly, he can't help himself.

Sam twists around in his seat to look at him. "Exactly. Jessica actually listens to me, she takes me seriously, she doesn't call me 'Sammy'. She actually supports what I want to do."

Dean purses his lips. "You had responsibilities to our family and you just abandoned them."

"To go to school, Dean. Why is that such a crime in our family?" Sam snaps. He closes his eyes and takes a breath. "We've been together again for the first time in years for about five minutes and we're already arguing."

Dean laughs a little. "Yeah, you'd think I'm dad," he says. "Look, Sammy, I don't mean what I'm saying. You know me, I get pissed when I'm hurt and I guess seeing you so happy without me hurts a little."

Sam blinks at him. "What happened to 'no chick flick moments'?"

Dean shakes his head. "This ain't a chick flick moment."

"Oh, really?" Sam says, raising an eyebrow. "The way you were talking I could swear you were going to turn into Jennifer Aniston any second."

That makes Dean laugh. It feels kind of good, driving the car, just the two of them.

"But, Dean," Sam adds, "Just because I'm making a family with Jess, it doesn't mean I'm replacing the family I already have. I'm just adding to it; it'll be your family too. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that," Dean answers. But why does he still feel like crap? He pulls onto the town's main road and finds a parking spot. A couple of girls walk by, handing out pieces of paper.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean says, "I think we've got a job here."

* * *

Sam had thought they were just going to find Dad. But now it turns out there's an actual unsolved case here, in the same town that Jess is in. This is not okay; he can feel his dreams bleeding into real life already.

Sam lets Dean drag him around. They talked to the vic's girlfriend, they visited the scene of the crime (and he stayed silent through Dean being an ass to the officers).

"We should go back to the bridge tonight," Dean says as they drive back to the hotel. "You know, get a look when no one's around."

Sam sighs. "Dean, I can't work a case. Not with Jess here."

"She'll just be in the motel room," Dean says, shrugging. "She won't know anything. Just tell her we're looking for Dad, which we are, by the way."

"I just can't keep doing this, man," Sam argues, "Not with a baby coming into the picture."

"We turned out alright," Dean says. "I'm just saying. For kids growing up with monsters, we turned out alright."

The words that pop into Sam's head are _did we?_ But he doesn't dare say them out loud, not at risk of another argument.

"Come on, Sam," Dean goes on, "This thing is killing people, even if Dad's not here, we need to take it out before anyone else gets hurt."

There it is. The old Winchester way of manipulation; if you don't do anything, people will die. Sam has never been able to resist that one.

"Fine," he relents, "But after this case, I'm taking Jess back to Stanford and I'm not getting involved in any more jobs."

"Okay," Dean agrees, but he doesn't sound too okay with it at all.

* * *

It's been hours. Hours. And Jess is seriously starting to freak out. Sam isn't like this, he doesn't get into trouble, and trouble is exactly what Jess suspects all of this is. She's lying on the double bed, flicking anxiously through the TV channels, her eyes keep flicking back to her phone every two seconds.

The last time Sam called her was before it got dark out. Now, it's early morning _the next day_ and Jess is freaking the fuck out. She'd been trying to stay awake for Sam but Baby likes to make her sleep. A lot.

She should go to the police, right? If something really is wrong with Sam and Dean's dad, then maybe the two of them have gotten themselves caught up in all of it. She can't sit back any longer.

Jess gets up, grabs her purse and slips on her shoes. She barely gets a step outside of the door before she sees Dean. Glancing around, she doesn't catch sight of Sam, but maybe Dean can tell her where Sam is. Right. She'll find Sam then she's getting the two of them the hell out of there.

She's on her way over to Dean when she notices the cops approaching him and she ducks behind a tree. She watches as the police talk to Dean, he has that stupid smirk on his face that she's seen a few too many times already, and the cops don't seem too pleased as they slam him down onto a car and cuff his hands behind his back.

_What the fuck?_

She stays hidden and watches as they force him into the back seat of the police cruiser and drive away. Jess has to do something. For one thing, Sam would be upset if she just let Dean get arrested and didn't even try to help, for another, she's sure Dean is the only person who actually knows where Sam is.

She finds out how to get to the police station from the motel clerk and calls herself a cab instead of braving the thirty minute walk it takes to get there. Her back and ankles would never forgive her. The cab driver is uber creepy and keeps telling her how pregnant ladies are sexy so she stops the cab early and tosses the money over to him and books it out of there as fast as she can.

Jesus. There's no wonder so many horror movies take place in small American towns.

She finds the police station easy enough on her own but her back is aching by the time she steps inside. She strides over to the reception with more confidence than she has and asks if she can get any information on Dean Winchester.

"And who are you?" the lady behind the desk asks.

"Jessica Winchester, I'm his sister-in-law," Jess replies. She stuns herself a little with how fast the lie comes out. The Winchesters are already rubbing off on her.

"I'm afraid Mr Winchester is still being questioned right now, we'll let you know when a bail amount is decided."

"Can I ask what he's charged with?" Jess asks. Testing Sam for his law exams has had its perks.

"That's not to be disclosed right now," the lady replies.

"Right, so how long until I can see him?"

"It'll be a few hours, honey," the receptionist tells her. Jess nods and parks herself in a waiting area seat, folding her arms across her chest.

She waits almost all day, spending a lot of time sitting, rushing to the bathroom to pee, and going to the convenience store down the street for food. She also sends Sam about a hundred texts and she calls him until she runs out of credit. Each time, she's answered with his voicemail.

She gently rubs her belly, waiting, waiting, waiting. Then suddenly, the station comes to life, officers are rushing out the door and she's left pretty much alone.

"What's going on?" she asks the receptionist.

"Emergency," is the answer.

There's a voice in the back of her mind that tells her Sam has something to do with it and she begins to imagine him hurt, dying in a ditch somewhere, murdered by a creepy cab driver. Jess hurries out of the station, hoping to maybe hear or see something. Just as she passes the alley behind the building, she sees a figure climbing down the fire escape.

"Dean?"

He lets himself drop to the ground, landing in a crouch, and he stands up and looks at her. He pales.

"Jessica?" he calls, "What the hell are you doing here?"

She next thing she knows she's hurling herself into his arms, just glad that there's someone a little familiar in this crapfest of a town. The she remembers that he got arrested and she has no idea why. She steps back.

"I saw the cops take you in," she says, a little accusatory. "I went to see if I could bail you out or something. Why the hell were you arrested?"

Dean glances around the alley and places a hand on her shoulder, steering her along with him onto the sidewalk. "That's not important right now," he says evasively, "But we have to get out of here, okay?"

"Where the hell is Sam?"

"He's fine."

"How do you know?"

Dean laughs but he keeps walking, keeps his hand on her shoulder. "You're worse than me," he says, "But I bet Sam doesn't complain about you being over-protective."

Jess digs her heels into the ground and glares at him. "Just tell me _something_."

Dean shifts impatiently, glancing around warily. "Look, Jess. We need to move, okay? I can get a hold of Sam; we just need a phone. You got a cell?"

"It died," Jess says.

"Right," Dean sighs. "We'll find a phone booth. Come on."

Jess doesn't have much choice but to follow. Dean finds a phone and he calls Sam, using her money, and he dials a number she doesn't recognise.

"That's not Sam's number," she says.

"It's his other number."

"Other number…" Jess repeats. Things are getting really weird. She's about to say something else but Dean lifts his finger up to silence her.

"Yeah, shots over on a suburban street apparently," he says, like it's an inside joke. He glances self-consciously at Jess. "Look, Sammy… yeah, she's with me… calm down! She's fine… yeah, meet us back at the motel, then we should get a move on… Sam? Sam?"

He listens for a little while before slamming the phone back down on the hook. "Shit."

"What? What's wrong?" Jess asks.

He eyes her for a moment. "Uh, maybe you should head back to the motel."

Jess folds her arms over her chest. "No way. If something's wrong with Sam, then I have a right to know. Tell me."

Dean shifts uncomfortably and shakes his head. "Alright. Come on."

He starts walking away and Jess jogs to catch up. "Where are we going?"

"Find a car."

"I don't think anyone would rent a car out to a man on the run," Jess points out.

"Who said I'm renting?" Dean asks. He glances around the street and slides over to a little blue car. He slips a piece of wire out from inside of his jacket and shoves it down the window, wiggling until the lock clicks.

"You're stealing?!" Jess hisses. Dean rolls his eyes and climbs in behind the wheel. Jess takes a deep breath.

"For Sam, okay?" she whispers, looking down at her bump. She hops into the passenger seat.

* * *

This is bad. This is really, really bad. Dean has no excuse, not for when Sam demands one. _If_ he's still alive to demand one. But there must be some hunter's code out there that says under no circumstances do you bring a pregnant chick along on a ghost hunt.

But he doesn't have a choice. He couldn't force Jessica to leave and he didn't have time to argue with her. He could just hope that when he told her to stay in the car and wait she would listen. He's relying on a lot of hope since he barely knows this girl.

But there's no time to keep an eye on her because he needs to get to Sam. He leaves the stolen car and Jess parked a short distance away from the house. The big, creepy abandoned house. The house that the Impala is parked in front of. Dean runs as fast as he can because he can see Constance Welsh straddling Sam in the front.

Sam is struggling but the ghost bitch won't let up.

He hears Sam scream as Constance shoves her hand through his chest and Dean makes no hesitation as he raises his gun and fires. The window smashes to pieces, Constance is gone and Sammy sits up trying to catch his breath. He looks over to Dean, his face nearing a smile, then his gaze moves slightly to the side and the smile is gone.

Dean looks over his shoulder. Jess is standing there, wide-eyed with her hands clamped over her mouth. She saw everything, that much is clear.

Dean looks back to Sam urgently. Sam's face has turned stony and he looks forward, starting up the engine.

"What are you doing?" Dean cries, starting forward.

"I'm taking her home," Sam growls. The car flies forward, crashing through the crumbling walls of the house. It stops inside with a sickening jolt and stays there. Dean forgets all about Jess and sprints forward, climbing over debris.

"Sam!" he calls. There's no answer and for a moment his stomach drops to his feet. Then he hears groaning and Sam is trying to open the car door. Dean helps him get out and holds him at arm's length, getting a good look at him.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Fine," Sam mumbles. Dean grins, but Sam's head turns to the side. Constance is there, and she looks pissed. The dresser comes out of nowhere and pins both of them against the side of the Impala, crashing into them hard enough to knock their air out of their lungs.

Dean sees Jess try to move forward out of the corner of his eye and he shakes his head sharply at her. She freezes and takes quiet steps back. He can see her shaking from where he is; she's terrified. She takes another step back and something cracks loudly under her weight.

Constance's attention moves from Sam and Dean to Jessica.

"No, please!" Sam cries out desperately. The ghost gazes at him for a moment, then back to Jess.

"He'll betray you, he'll hurt you, he'll be unfaithful," Constance says, her voice echoes around the room, she flickers closer and closer to Jessica, who is frozen in place and shivering.

"H-he wouldn't," Jess manages to stutter out.

"He will. They always will," Constance sneers. "You'll lose your child at your own hand because of _him_."

Jess finally takes a step back and stumbles, managing to catch herself against a wooden beam. It creaks and groans.

"Mommy?"

Constance stops and slowly turns, her expression softens and she vanishes, reappearing at the bottom of the stairs. Dean can see water trickling through the bannister, two small shadows stand on the steps, holding hand.

"You came home," they say.

Suddenly they're standing next to their mother and they grab onto her. She screams. They twist and distort and cry. And they're gone in the blink of an eye.

Sam kicks the dresser away and hurries over to Jess, Dean is still staring at the spot Constance and her children vanished from.

"Jess… are you okay?" he hears Sam ask gently.

"Sam, I… I need to…"

"Jess, please, let me explain."

Dean finally turns to look at the two of them. Jess is backing away from Sam, backing out of the house. She shakes her head, tears coming to her eyes, and she turns and walks away. Dean watches Sam run after her.

* * *

They didn't speak at all on the drive home. Jess wouldn't even look at him. Dean must have not been able to stand the tension and slipped one of his cassettes in, tapping along quietly to the music the whole way back to Stanford.

When Dean pulls up to the apartment, Jess is out of the car before it stops. She doesn't wait for Sam. Sam takes a deep breath and turns to Dean.

"I don't know if she'll ever forgive me," he admits, staring at his lap miserably. "I know I wouldn't if I were her."

Dean looks sympathetic. "I'm sure she just needs time," he says.

"I don't know what to do," Sam says. He can feel a lump in his throat, tears straining at his eyes. He can't lose Jess. He can't.

Dean sighs. "Just talk to her, man," he advises. "Make her understand."

Sam shakes his head. "There's nothing about this to understand," he says. "I've never understood any of this once in my life."

He knows that if he says anything else, he'll cry. He can't cry in front of Dean. Sam gets out of the car without another word, grabs the bags from the trunk and starts up the path to his apartment building. He pauses halfway and looks back, gives Dean a wave. Dean nods back and pulls away from the curb, down the street and out of Sam's life again.

The apartment door is slightly open when Sam gets up the stairs. He nudges it closed behind him and drops the bags on the couch. He supposes he should get a blanket; he'll probably be sleeping there tonight. He can see that the bedroom light is on, it glows softly through the crack where the door is open.

He should talk to her. But what if she isn't ready to talk yet? He should give her time, shouldn't he?

But he doesn't want to. He wants to talk to her now. He needs to.

He gently pushes the door open. Jess isn't in bed. He peers around the room.

"God, no!"

Jess is pinned, halfway up the wall. Sam dashes forward, grabs her wrist and pulls. She's staring at him, panicked, but she can't seem to make any sound. He yanks and yanks until she comes free, falling into his arms. He catches her as gently as he can, holds her up close to his chest and she buries her face into his neck, sobbing.

"Brady," she croaks. "It's Brady."

"I never thought of you as a tattle-tale, Jessica."

Sam looks up at the sound of Brady's voice. His friend is leaning against the bathroom door, smiling.

"I hadn't expected you until later, Sammy," Brady says, "But I can be flexible."

Sam backs away, towards the door. "You're not touching her," he growls, holding Jess tightly in his grip. "I'm not watching you burn her."

Brady cocks his head to the side. "And how would you know about that?" Brady asks curiously. "Been having any strange dreams lately?"

Sam backs away further. Once he's around the corner, he could run. He has to try.

Brady sighs dramatically. "Look, Sam. Believe it or not, I actually like you. But I've got orders, man, and the big boss says Stepford there," he gestures to Jess, "has to die. And I'm not sure he's so happy about the spawn you've got growing inside her either."

"You're not touching her!" Sam yells.

Brady shrugs. "Fine. I won't _touch_ her," he says. He flicks out a hand and Sam feels himself fly back, he tightens his grip, and he lands on his back next to the kitchen, Jess lands on top of him.

"We have to run!" she sobs. Sam grabs her hand and leads her behind the kitchen counter. He carefully opens a cupboard and finds the salt. Jess stares at him.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know what Brady is, but salt repels most things," Sam explains hurriedly. He suddenly stands up, comes face to face with Brady over the counter, and he tosses a handful of salt at him. Brady hisses and rears back, Sam cries for Jess to run and he dashes after her, lining the front door with salt to block Brady's way out.

Jess nearly trips on the bottom steps but Sam catches her, takes her hand and runs out onto the sidewalk, dragging her behind him. They make it to the end of the street when their apartment bursts into flames.

Jess stops abruptly. Her grip on his hand only grows tighter as she stares at the wreck behind them, and Sam folds her into his arms. They watch their home burn.

Beside them, a car rolls to a stop. Someone climbs out and dashes over.

"Thank God," Dean says and he yanks both of them into his arms. Sam can already hear the sirens of the fire truck approaching. "Sam? Sammy, We need to get out of here. Whatever did this will come back."

"It was my friend," Sam whispers. "He was going to kill her. Like Mom."

Dean tenses up beside him. "Sammy, we need to go. We need to find Dad."

Sam nods, feeling numb all over. Dean is already helping a shaking and sobbing Jess into the back seat. A moment later, he places a hand on Sam's arm, startling him.

"We need to go, Sam."

Sam nods again, more surely this time, and he climbs into the back seat after Jess. She leans into him and holds onto him tight, Sam pulls her closer into his chest. He feels the engine start, the car rumbles and growls, smoothly rolling back onto the road.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam watches his home burn.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches his bad dreams coming true.


	3. Slumber Party

She doesn't know how long they've been driving. It's still dark outside as she watches shadows flash by outside the window. She can feel herself shaking. She stopped crying a long time ago but the tears are still clinging to her skin, dry and itchy on her cheeks.

It's strange. She feels like she's half asleep, like she can barely tell if what just happened was a dream or not.

Sam's arms are around her, secure and steady. She remembers thinking how stoic he always was and how she used to put it down to a childhood trauma she could only guess at. How wrong she was.

The ghost, Brady's black eyes, the fire that burst out of nothing. It was all real. All of it is _real_. She feels like the world she grew up in has suddenly been turned on its head. If things like this exist, how did she never know?

She wishes more than anything she could forget. And suddenly she can feel nausea rising to a lump in her throat.

"Pull over," she says. Her voice is no more than a rasp. Sam shifts and she feels him bend closer. She feels too hot, too confined in this car with these two men she barely knows. Does she know Sam at all?

"Pull over!" she shrieks. Dean jumps a little in the front seat and turns the wheel, jerking the car to a stop on the side of the road. She scrambles out of Sam's arms, yanks at the handle until the door opens and she's all but tumbling out onto the side of the road.

She stumbles away from the car. She doesn't know where she's going.

She's stops and throws up in a cluster of bushes. It's pitch black and silent as far as she can see in front of her. Behind, the highway is loud and bright. She feels stuck between two different worlds.

She leans, hands resting on her knees, for a long time, coughing and hacking.

"Jess?" she can hear Sam's hesitant voice behind her, then she feels his even more hesitant hand on her back. He seems to relax when she doesn't push him away, and he bends down beside her.

"Jess, talk to me," he says.

She spits one more time between her feet then glances up at him. "What do you want me to say?" she asks.

Sam's face seems like it's trying not to crumble. "I don't know… I don't. I'm _so_ sorry, Jess."

She grabs his shoulder and uses it to lever herself up to her feet. She takes a few steps away from where she puked all over the ground and wipes her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

"You knew about all of this," she says, turning back to face him, "ghosts and monsters and… and people with black eyes?"

Sam's eyes widen a fraction. "Black eyes?"

She nods. "I don't know what was wrong with Brady… or what he was. His eyes were _black_."

"I didn't know any of this would happen," Sam insists. He's lying, or something close to lying. He always looks at his feet when he lies. Jess doesn't know what to make of this.

"I want the truth, Sam. All of it."

Sam nods. He looks miserable, pale and downright terrified. "I told you my mom died in a fire when I was a baby," he begins, voice unsteady. Jess nods.

"That's true," he goes on, "but it wasn't just a fire. My mom… she died in my nursery, pinned to the ceiling. She was burned alive."

He allows her a moment to process this. Jess thinks of her apartment ablaze, she thinks of her body being pulled up the wall, towards the ceiling. It clicks in her head and she lets out a small, "oh."

"My dad saw the whole thing," Sam explains. "He got me and Dean out of there and we went on the road. I never had a house growing up, we were always moving. My dad wanted to find the thing that killed mom. He learned about monsters, how to kill them. That's what he does; he's not a salesman, he's a hunter. So is Dean."

"And you?" Jess asks.

"I was supposed to be," he tells her, "but I hated that life. All I wanted, all I've ever wanted, was a normal life. I got into college and my dad… he wasn't happy about it. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps. The family business."

Jess feels her eyes sting. "You did this when you were children?" she asks incredulously.

A grim smile flickers on Sam's face. "I spent my eleventh birthday burning a fifty-year-old corpse."

Jess glances away, she can taste the bile in her mouth. "Fuck," she hisses. Any anger she'd felt towards Sam is gone. All her rage is reserved for John Winchester. "What kind of parent does that to their child?" she asks.

"It's complicated," Sam answers.

"There is no fucking way," Jess says, her hand clutches at her slightly rounded stomach, "that I am bringing our baby into this."

Sam, who'd been keeping his distance up until now, steps forward. "I never _ever_ wanted you or our baby involved in this. You need to understand, Jess. I came to school because I wanted to be as far away from that world as possible. I won't let anything hurt you or our baby."

She lets him place his hand over hers. She glances down. "I just want to go home."

Sam sighs and tips his head forward, resting it against hers. "I'm so sorry, Jess."

"Please," her voice cracks, "let's just go home."

"We can't," Sam says. "Brady, or whatever he was, he won't give up. I need to keep you safe."

Jess looks up into his eyes. "So we just run for the rest of our lives?" she asks. Tears are flowing again and she's so damn tired of crying at this point but there's no stopping it now.

"I'm done with running," Sam says. "I'm going to find Brady, whatever the fuck he is, and I'm going to put a bullet in his head."

* * *

Dean gives Sammy and his girl the space they need. He lets them talk it out on the side of the road, the whole time he keeps his eyes wide open, one hand resting on his gun handle. Something's after his little brother, after Jess and their kid. Whatever it is will have to go through Dean first.

He watches them from the car. He can't hear what they're saying over the rush of midnight traffic but luckily Jess isn't looking too pissed at Sam. The girl looks scared, as she should.

They're out there for a while, talking. There's a lot of crying, on Jessica's part. A lot of panicked looks, on Sam's part. Sam wraps her up in those ridiculous gorilla arms of his and holds her for a long time before escorting her back to the car. No one says anything as Dean pulls back onto the road.

He finds a motel in the middle of freakin' nowhere. He doesn't really have a clue where they are, he didn't pay attention the signs as he drove. He leaves the two of them in the Impala and books a room at the motel reception. One room, two beds. He's not letting either of them out of his sight.

Sam is latched onto Jess, eyes wary like he's her own personal guard dog. Dean checks the room first. Once he decides it's safe, he lines the windows and doors with salt. Jess watches him from her perch on one of the beds. Her eyes are red and tired but she watches him studiously, learning. The girl catches on fast.

"Sam said salt protects," she says. "From what, exactly?"

Dean pours out the last of it and stands up, turning to face her. "Ghosts, mostly," he explains. "Can do harm to demons, too. It's no good against shifters or werewolves, which is why I carry this," he pulls his knife out of its sheath.

"What's so special about that?" Jess asks.

"It's silver," Dean tells her. "Anything that can change form will react badly to it. It burns them like acid."

"So, what was Brady?"

Dean frowns. He's not quite caught up on what exactly happened back in Palo Alto. He can fit the few pieces he has together well enough to grasp that involves the thing that killed mom.

"Brady was, uh, my friend," Sam cuts in. He's staring at the ground, shame painted all over his face. "But I guess he was never really my friend, was he?"

"This friend," Dean prompts, "he's the one who did this?"

Sam nods.

"You think he's the thing that killed mom?" Dean dares to ask.

Sam finally glances up. "He was about to do the exact same thing to Jess… but no. Brady said he was working for someone else."

Jess seems to turn a shade paler and she's dashing past Dean and into the bathroom, the door slamming closed behind her. He winces at the sound of retching on the other side. Sam paces, hands working nervously.

"This can't be good for her and the baby," Sam stresses. "Am I supposed to take her to a doctor?"

Dean doesn't know a thing about babies or pregnancy or how to deal with a pregnant woman who was almost murdered by a monster. Dean isn't good with this sort of thing. The only pregnant woman he ever knew was his mother, and at that time he didn't understand how that bump was supposed to be his brother. Sam needs someone to tell him what to do, though. The kid looks so lost.

"We lay low here for a while, okay?" Dean says. "We keep her safe, try to get her to relax, get her to eat and sleep a little. If anything seems wrong, we take her straight to the nearest clinic. Sam, I think she's fine. She just needs some time to deal."

Sam shakes his head. "She's not fine. How can she be fine after this? Her life is changed forever."

Dean can't argue with that. He clears his throat and says, "We know dad's out there somewhere. I'll try to call him. If he knew what's going on, he'll be here in no time."

The look on Sam's face says that he doesn't believe a word. Sam never did believe in much when it came to their dad.

Dean slips out of the room, careful not to damage the salt line, and he makes his way over to a bright, humming vending machine that stands a few doors down. He empties his wallet of pennies and punches in a few numbers, waiting for the water bottles and candy bars to fall to the bottom. He speed-dials John and waits.

He's met with voice mail.

Dean sighs before leaving a message. "Hey, dad. It's me, again. Look, some stuff has happened and I've got Sammy and his girl with me. I think it's the thing that killed mom, it tried to do the same thing to Jessica. Jess is Sammy's girlfriend, by the way, but your probably guessed… anyway, so I'm kind of freaking out here. There's some other stuff… but, uh, that's for Sam to tell you. Basically, this whole thing is a giant mess and Sam and Jessica are looking to me to do something about it and I have no clue what I'm doing. Please call me back, okay?"

He's quiet for a moment, thinking of what else to say. Instead, he ends he message and collects everything from the vending machine before heading back to the room.

Jess has made a reappearance. She's sitting under the thin motel bed blankets with her knees tucked up to her chest. Sam is sitting on the edge of the bed. They both look up when he steps inside and Dean guesses he's just walked in on a private conversation.

"Here," he holds out a bottle of water to Jess. She takes it and fiddles the cap off, taking a long sip. Dean places a chocolate bar on the bedside table next to her. "If you get hungry," he says. Jess manages a small smile.

"Did you talk to dad?" Sam asks.

Dean scratches at the back of his head. "I got his voicemail. I left a message explaining everything."

"Everything?" Sam repeats, head jerking up.

"Not _everything_ ," Dean sighs. "Just about what happened tonight. He'll get back to us soon, I'm sure."

Jess shifts under the blanket and folds her arms across her chest. "Are we safe here?" she asks. "Brady, that thing, it won't be able to get in, will it?"

"Salt should keep it out," Dean promises. "You should get some sleep. Both of you. I'll keep watch for you. You're with the second best hunter in the country," he grins, "I ain't letting anything through that door."

Jess raises and eyebrow. "Second best?"

"Nobody better than our dad, sweetheart," Dean tells her.

* * *

It took a few hours, but Jess is finally asleep. She's folded into his arms and he feels her warm and breathing against his chest. Sam thinks of how close he was to losing her. How close he was to losing both of them. He can feel her small, rounded belly pressed against his and he thanks God that she's still here for him to hold.

He won't be sleeping; he knows that already. He's barely been sleeping the past few weeks. God, it almost came true. And Sam isn't stupid, he can put things together quicker than most people. His mom died in _his_ nursery, something wanted Jess dead because of _him_ , _his_ nightmares are beginning to come true. Something is wrong with him.

"Sammy, stop thinking so loud," Dean says quietly. He's sitting by the window, his gun in one hand and his cell in the other. He turns around and says, "You should sleep."

"I can't," Sam tells him, voice dropped to a whisper.

Dean huffs a sigh. "You never slept well. The nightmares, the sleep-walking, the bed-wetting, it was all a bitch to deal with."

Sam frowns. "I didn't wet the bed," he protests.

Dean shrugs in the dark. "Whatever you say, pampers."

Sam finds himself smiling. For a small moment it feels like the part of his life he never wanted to leave behind. It doesn't last long. The memory of what happened only hours earlier is already filling his head. He imagines Jess burning and wants to cry.

"Dean, I'm scared," Sam admits. "I can't lose her."

"You won't," Dean promises. "I won't let anything happen to either of you."

Sam buries his nose in Jess' curls and breathes her in. He finds himself believing Dean. After all, he always believed in Dean more than he ever believed in their dad.

* * *

Jess wakes up with a stiff neck and heavy eyes. She figures she's only slept for about four hours, waking up and drifting off constantly in the night. One look at Sam tells her he got less sleep than she did. She glances to the bedside table where a retro digital clock tells her it's not yet 7am.

She sits up and rubs her eyes. Dean is sitting in the same spot she last saw him, hunkered down by the window and drinking coffee from a large Styrofoam cup. He catches her eye and gives her a nod, then his eyes go back to the laptop set up in front of him. Jess thinks of her computer and all the essays she had saved on it. It's probably melted metal and plastic now that it's burned away with all of other possessions, including her clothes. All she has now is what she's wearing. She doesn't even like this top much, she only wore it because it's comfortable.

"You want first shower?" Sam asks. The clothes he slept in are crinkled and worn, his hair is sticking up at ridiculous angles. He looks like shit. Jess wonders what she looks like. She can smell sweat, puke and the bleach from the motel bedsheets in her hair. She climbs out of bed and drags herself to the bathroom, her bones feel like they're made of lead.

After locking the door, she strips down and folds her clothes onto he closed toilet seat. She looks a mess in the mirror, red-eyed with stained cheeks and tangled hair. She twists to the side, examining her belly in the reflection. The bump is still tiny, small enough that you might not notice. Her mom still hasn't seen her; Jess broke the news over the phone. She'd planned to take Sam to Carolina with her for Christmas. She needs to talk to her mom, explain she might not make it for the holidays.

She trails her finger up and down her belly, feeling the soft-firm skin.

"You okay in there?" she asks.

She hops in the shower, soaks up the hot water and lets the spray beat down on her back. She washes her hair with motel shampoo and cleans her body with motel soap. She's still in there when the water starts to turn cold, not exactly eager to return to the crap-fest of the real world that's waiting outside for her.

Eventually, once all the soap is surely rinsed from her skin, Jess shuts off the water and climbs out. She's quick to dab herself dry with the towel, soaking up the water from her hair until it's only damp. She turns her underwear inside out and puts them back on, along with the rest of her unclean clothes.

She glances at herself in the foggy mirror. She looks pale and tired, but at least it doesn't look like she's been crying.

Jess winces, the bathroom lights are a little too bright. She squeezes her eyes closed, holding onto the sink for support when she feels the room move around her. She manages to find the door and unlock it. She lets herself back into the room and a rush of cold spreads over her. Sam and Dean are arguing but they shut up once she makes an appearance.

"Jess?" Sam says. He sounds worried, which is confusing and Jess thinks… she's struggling a little too hard to think clearly right now, actually. She glances up to meet his eye but everything turns fuzzy and grey like an out of tune television. Her legs go numb and she feels them fold under her just as everything else disappears.


End file.
